A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

Star Wars

Episode I: The Ways of the Force

It is a time of great conflict.

Separatist forces, dissatisfied

with the rule of the Republic,

wage a war of secession

across the star systems.

At the edge of the Outer Rim,

the Republic fleet of clone soldiers,

captained by the Jedi Knights,

battles the Separatists

in an effort to restore peace.

But, unknown to the Jedi,

A new power has risen

within the Separatist ranks,

one that seeks to destroy the

Republic and bring a new order

to the galaxy…

The Spoils of War

Flashes of red and green blaster bolts whizzed overhead as Obi-Wan Kenobi maneuvered his starfighter into attack position. The battle was nearly won; he could feel it. The fear of the Separatist fighters was palpable to him through the Force. After months of a bloody offensive they had finally pushed the enemy to the edge of Republic territory. If they won this battle, they could turn the tide of the war. "Rex, form up, that cruiser is nearly disabled," Obi-Wan ordered over the comm.

"Yes, sir. Aero Squadron, attack positions, we're taking the cruiser." Rex's voice came in through Obi-Wan's headphones as the clone pilots fell into position. With the fighters lined up behind him, Obi-Wan put his ship into a sharp dive, heading for the main guns of the enemy cruiser.

"Split up. There are six artillery guns still in operation on that ship. Two fighters per cannon. Rex, you're with me," Obi-Wan instructed. In a seamless movement, the twelve fighter squadron divided into pairs for the attack, laser cannons blazing. In quick succession the enemy guns went up in a flurry of fire and sparks. With Rex in tow, Obi-Wan went after the final gun, blasting it into oblivion with a few well-placed shots.

Coming about, Obi-Wan brought his guns to bear on the bridge of the enemy ship and fired his torpedoes. It was a direct hit. Escape pods began to jettison from the Separatist cruiser as the ship turned at an odd angle and began to descend rapidly towards the desolate world of Geonosis, unable to fight the planet's gravity in its damaged state.

Cheers erupted from his squad over his headset. It wasn't protocol, but Obi-Wan decided to let them have their moment of celebration. He couldn't stop a small smile from tugging at the edge of his own lips. Finally, after three years of brutal war, this moment could prove to be the decisive blow. But then, something changed.

There was a disturbance in the Force. He felt it before he saw it. A darkness, a rage of a sort he had never felt before washed over him, emanating from some outside source, crushing the brief kernel of hope that he had allowed himself to hold onto a moment before. A second later, a new ship emerged out of hyperspace. It was enormous, a monstrosity of sleek black metal.

"Sir…what is that?" Rex asked over the comm. Obi-Wan had no answer for him, but he could sense that whatever dark presence he felt was coming from the newly arrived vessel. A deep sense of foreboding overwhelmed him. The remaining Separatist forces fled towards the new ship, rallying around it and reforming into attack groups.

"Shields up, this isn't over yet," Obi-Wan commanded, readying himself for the counter attack. But it didn't come. The ship didn't fire. No fighters emerged from its bays.

"What are they waiting for?" Rex asked, but no one had an answer. "Wait...sir, there's something coming through, some sort of transmission…" Rex's voice trailed off and was replaced by heavy static. Obi-Wan checked his comm, but his signal wasn't going through. He tried to bring his squadron back online.

"Rex, do you copy? Does anyone copy? I think I'm being jammed." No one responded. Pulling up beside Rex, Obi-Wan tried to make visual contact through the cockpit. He could see the clone commander and signaled that his comm was out, but Rex did not signal back. Instead, he brought his starfighter around and fixed his guns on Obi-Wan.

For a moment, Obi-Wan refused to believe what he was seeing, but as his ship rocked with laser blasts from Rex's guns he quickly accepted this new reality. Pitching and rolling to avoid being shot down by his own man, Obi-Wan tried frantically to bring his comm back online.

"Rex, cease fire! Cease fire, this is General Kenobi! Aero Squadron, respond!" But only static came through his headset. Two other troopers from Aero Squadron flew above him and then looped around, joining Rex in the attack. Not far from him, Obi-Wan could see another Jedi pilot also trying to fight off his own troopers. Obi-Wan's mind raced as he dodged another laser blast. What was going on? How had this happened?

In his peripheral vision, Obi-Wan saw the newly arrived ship begin to open fire on the larger cruisers, its powerful guns quickly doling out serious damage. Squadron after squadron of fighters emerged from its hangar, pursuing the clones who were now pursuing the Jedi, taking advantage of the confusion.

One by one he felt the deaths of his fellow Jedi as they succumbed to the attack of their own troops. He juked left and spiraled up, coming in around Rex. He squeezed off a few shots, disabling rather than destroying the fighter. Whatever had happened to them, he couldn't bring himself to kill his own men.

His moment of mercy cost him. A blaster bolt from the trooper's wingman struck the starboard wing of his fighter. Warning lights began to go off inside the cockpit. He was losing power on the starboard engine. Obi-Wan tried desperately to even out the power, but his ship was failing. The starfighter, bereft of half its power, began to spin in a crooked barrel roll.

Obi-Wan wrestled with the controls, trying to keep the ship upright. Around him was a scene of devastation, a sea of Republic ships adrift in space or blasted to pieces. The fleet was all but destroyed. His starfighter careened wildly, headed for a disabled cruiser below, and he was powerless to stop it. The last thing he saw was the fiery wreckage of the cruiser hurtling towards him. Then there was only darkness.

Through the viewport of his command ship Darth Maul surveyed the scene before him. The ruins of hundreds of Republic fighters and ships floated and burned in orbit around Geonosis. Space was littered with broken apart starfighters and the floating corpses of lost soldiers. Maul's yellow eyes gleamed as he looked upon the destruction. His master would be most pleased.

He turned from the viewport and strode across the bridge back toward the briefing room. He could feel the fear of the crew as he walked past, and he reveled in it. Their terror of him only fed his power. He had united the ragtag Separatist factions into an army with a mixture of intimidation and brute force. Through fear-mongering he had built his great confederacy, and now he would finally end the Republic and bring order to the galaxy.

The briefing room doors hissed open and Maul strode in. The many chairs around the large table were empty, save for one. The lone occupant of the room was Colonel Tarkin, who held his chin in his hand, one long thin finger resting against a razor sharp cheekbone. Tarkin was Maul's most trusted officer, far more ruthless and cunning than the other bleeding heart Separatist leaders, and one of the few humans among them.

As Maul entered the room, Tarkin stood and drew himself up to attention and saluted. Maul did not acknowledge the salute, but took a seat next to Tarkin and indicated for the colonel to return to his chair. He did not require archaic military gestures to know he commanded the respect of his troops. Tarkin returned to his seat. Though Tarkin remained stoic as ever, Maul detected the subtle excitement in each carefully pronounced syllable as he began his report.

"Sir, it appears the order transmission provided by your contact was authentic. Upon receiving the transmission of Order 66 all Republic clone troopers immediately opened fire on their Jedi leaders. The test was a success."

"Can you confirm all the Jedi fighters were destroyed?" Maul asked. Tarkin frowned, his enthusiasm dimmed.

"No," he said stiffly. Maul fixed his yellow eyes on the officer.

"No?" he asked.

"There is one known Jedi officer unaccounted for. General Obi-Wan Kenobi. His fighter was confirmed hit and disabled, but it has not been located," Tarkin explained, his tone betraying his annoyance. Maul felt his anger rising. How could they have let a Jedi slip through their net?

"It is probable that the fighter disintegrated," Tarkin said.

Maul clenched his jaw. Military commanders lived and died by statistics and probabilities, but he could not. If one of the Jedi had survived, and if word got back to Coruscant that the Republic's clones had betrayed their Jedi commanders, it could jeopardize everything.

"I want confirmation. Have the squadrons perform a sweep of the debris field and the surrounding system."

"Sir, that is inefficient," Tarkin said dismissively. Maul stared at him, his yellow eyes burning with anger. Tarkin continued, "I suggest we move the fleet out now, while the Republic remains unawares." Maul contemplated the idea. It was a risk, but he sensed Tarkin's confidence and Maul knew he was right. Time was their enemy now.

"And the Jedi?" Maul asked after a moment's pause. Tarkin smiled, raising his already astonishingly high cheekbones still higher.

"We are on the borderlands of Hutt Space. If they find the Jedi, they will kill him. For insurance, I suggest placing a bounty on Kenobi's head. Forty-thousand should be sufficient." Maul contemplated Tarkin's solution for a moment. He did not want to put his plans on hold for one missing Jedi.

"Set the bounty and prepare the fleet to move out," he instructed Tarkin.

"Yes sir," Tarkin replied, nodding in assent.

"Leave me. I must send a transmission. See to it that I am not disturbed," Maul said, waving Tarkin away.

"Of course, my lord," Tarkin said, standing and exiting the room. Maul was not pleased about the missing Jedi, but on the whole he would have good news to report to his master. One Jedi could not destroy everything they had worked for all these long years. He was sure of that.

Tarkin straightened his perfectly pressed uniform as he made his way back to the bridge. The Rodian captain of the Menace approached him, saluting as he came to attention before his commanding officer.

"Sir, we await your orders."

"Prepare the fleet to return to Alderaan. And summon the intelligence officer, I have something for her."

"Yes, sir, right away." Tarkin moved to the viewport, observing coldly as the last remaining ships of the Republic signaled their surrender. The young intelligence officer approached him from the far side of the bridge.

"You requested to see me sir?" she asked, standing at attention before him.

"Yes, Lieutenant." He handed her the data pad he had programmed with the information regarding the Jedi's bounty. "A bounty for a Jedi Knight, forty thousand," he paused, thoughtful. "Fifty if he is brought in alive."

"Alive?" The young officer could not contain her surprise. "Sir...the difficulty of taking a Jedi alive...surely that risk is unnecessary?" Tarkin knew he was taking a chance, the kind of chance that Maul would never sanction. But Maul was unimaginative, his fear of the Jedi absolute. Maul sought only to destroy, but Tarkin had grander ambitions.

No Separatist officer had taken a Jedi prisoner alive before. What secrets might General Kenobi know? The opportunity was too tantalizing to pass up. He knew Maul would never check to see that the bounty had been processed as he'd ordered. He was far too trusting.

"I assure you it is quite necessary. See that it is done," he ordered.

"Yes sir," the officer said, still looking uncertain.

"Dismissed, Lieutenant." The officer gave a quick salute and headed down the corridor. Tarkin watched her disappear around the corner, then turned back to the viewport. He had a surrender to oversee.

Alone in the briefing room, Maul powered up the holoprojector at the center of the table and entered the appropriate code. A moment later the black hooded figure of his master flickered before him, Maul knelt, his horned head bowed.

"Rise, my apprentice," the gravelly voice instructed. Maul stood, his hands clasped behind his back.

"My master, we have defeated the Republic forces in the Outer Rim. Their fleet here is all but destroyed."

"And what of the other matter?"

"The Jedi were destroyed by their own forces," Maul answered. He decided not to say anything about Kenobi. The Jedi was dead, or soon would be. It was not worth troubling his master over.

"Good. The destruction of the Outer Rim Fleet is a grave blow to our enemy."

"Yes, master."

"The time has come to strike at the very heart of the Republic. Gather your forces on Alderaan and prepare for invasion. I will ensure the remainder of the Republic Fleet is engaged elsewhere. It is time to bring the war to Coruscant."

"Yes, my master."

"Destroy any remnant of the Outer Rim Fleet. Show no mercy."

"It shall be done, master," Maul said, bowing his head in acquiescence.

"You have done well, Darth Maul. Have patience. The hour of our revenge is near." The black cloaked figure flickered and disappeared as the transmission ended. Colonel Tarkin hailed him on the comm.

"Sir, the remainder of the fleet has surrendered. What are your orders?" Maul looked out the viewport at the battered remains of his enemy's ships and the vaguest hint of a smile played at the corners of his fearsome yellow eyes.

"Kill them," he ordered. "Kill them all."

Anakin Skywalker peered out from the cockpit of the Outlander, looking for something worth salvaging. The scene before him was grim. The ruins of hundreds of ships lay scattered, held in a precarious orbit around the rusty orb of Geonosis. Anakin swerved the beat-up old freighter skillfully out of the way as a large chunk of a Republic battlecruiser crossed in front of it. Next to him, Owen leaned back in the co-pilot's seat, nervously clutching the armrests.

"This isn't a debris field, it's a graveyard," Owen observed glumly as the lifeless, armored bodies of several clone troopers floated past the viewport.

"At least there won't be anyone to stop our salvage operation," Anakin pointed out. He wasn't particularly concerned with the death and destruction all around him. This battle so close to his home on Tatooine had provided an opportunity and he wasn't about to get squeamish.

"When you suggested we come here I didn't think it would involve separating out body parts from ship parts," Owen said nervously as Anakin maneuvered through the debris field, keeping one eye on the scanners.

"Come on. Where's your sense of adventure?

"I left it back on Tatooine."

"Relax, there's no one left around here to cause us any trouble. We need to find a powercell for the pod and this is the best place to look. You want to win the race tomorrow don't you? You want your share of the prize money?"

"Just seems there should be a way that involves fewer severed limbs," Owen grumbled.

"Well, there isn't. At least not one we can afford. Is that tractor beam online yet?"

"Should be, if the power coupling holds."

"Get ready to lock onto that cruiser, it looks like one of its power cells is still in one piece." Anakin brought his targeting computer online, carefully maneuvering into a position to tractor the cruiser. But as he did so he could feel his attention being pulled elsewhere, as if someone were calling out to him ever so faintly. "Wait..." Anakin said as his gaze drifted almost against his will, past the cruiser to a mangled starfighter just beyond it, "there's someone in that fighter."

"Yeah, another corpse."

"No," he said, staring at the ship, "someone alive."

"What? How do you know that?" Owen asked, frowning as he checked the computer. "The scanners aren't picking anything up."

"I just know," Anakin replied, his gaze still intent on the starfighter. He tried to shake the feeling, he couldn't afford to be distracted now. He needed this part for his podracer, he needed to win the Boonta Eve race. It was the only way to free himself from his pathetic existence as a lowly Outer Rim freight navigator. It had been his singular goal for more than a year. But the feeling wouldn't subside and he couldn't ignore it. There was someone still alive on that ship, he was certain of it.

"Open the hold, we're bringing that ship in," Anakin said.

"Are you crazy?" Owen spat incredulously as Anakin repositioned the Outlander to tractor the starfighter. "Anakin, there's nobody out there!"

"If you're right, then you have nothing to worry about."

"What about the power cell? The race is in the morning, we won't have time to find another one."

"We can get it later," Anakin said matter-of-factly as he brought the ship around.

"Even if there is someone onboard, what makes you think they'll be friendly?" Owen asked nervously as Anakin powered up the tractor beam and the fighter began to slowly move towards the open cargo hold of the freighter.

"Maybe they won't be." Anakin grinned at Owen's look of horror. "Better keep your blaster out of its holster," he suggested, patting Owen on the shoulder as he left the cockpit, moving towards the hold at the rear of the ship.

Anakin waited at the door, blaster drawn. He heard the heavy metal clang signaling the closing of the cargo doors and a moment later the indicator light flashed green, telling him it was safe to enter the hold. The door hissed open, and Anakin entered cautiously as Owen hovered by the door, unwilling to follow.

The hold had filled with smoke from the wreckage, making it hard to see or breathe. Through the smoldering air around him Anakin could make out the twisted chunks that had once been the starfighter's starboard wing and engine. He picked up a piece of wreckage to examine it more closely, turning the piece of charred metal over in his hands. It was still warm. On the reverse side he saw a symbol, painted in a deep maroon. His heart began to beat fast as he recognized it.

"What is it?" Owen asked, having now advanced a few tentative steps into the hold. Anakin turned back to him.

"It's a Jedi fighter." He held up the piece of wreckage for Owen to see. The color immediately drained from his friend's face.

"Anakin...I've got a bad feeling about this. Let's just float this thing back into orbit and get out of here."

"No," Anakin said in a tone that left no room for argument, "not yet." He slowly made his way around to where he could see the cockpit. Carbon scoring obscured most of the transparisteel panes, but he could just make out a sliver of a dark brown robe inside. Holstering his blaster, Anakin clambered up onto the nose of the fighter. The cockpit was melted shut. He called down to Owen, "Get that pry bar and hand it to me," he said, reaching out his hand. Reluctantly, Owen retrieved the pry bar and handed it up to Anakin.

"What are you going to do?" Owen asked nervously.

"Get him out, if I can."

"Anakin, think about this. If there is a Jedi Knight in that fighter, we should leave him there. Do you have any idea what the Hutts would do to you for harboring a Jedi?"

"I'm not concerned with the Hutts," Anakin said as he wedged the pry bar into place and pushed down hard on it, trying to leverage the damaged cockpit open.

"We shouldn't get involved," Owen said as he watched Anakin struggle. Anakin turned back to him, glowering.

"What would you have me do? Push him out an airlock? Open the cargo hold and let his ship float away?" Owen looked down, his cheeks red, but didn't say anything back. Anakin glared at him a moment longer, then went back to work on the pry bar, throwing his full weight against it. With a sharp hiss the cockpit cover sprang open, releasing a mixture of pent up oxygen and smoke.

Anakin coughed as the gaseous mixture swept over him. As it cleared away, he could more clearly make out the figure before him. The man was perhaps in his mid- to late-thirties. Hia light brown hair, mussed by recent activity, looked like it was normally impeccably combed, matched with his well-trimmed beard. His plain Jedi robes were various shades of brown, with several notable burn marks on the outer layers. Anakin could see the faintest rise and fall of the man's chest. There was a nasty gash across his forehead and a jagged piece of metal was lodged in his right side.

Owen had approached the ship now and was leaning on the nose, standing on tiptoe to see, torn between curiosity and fear. Anakin shuffled back down the fighter's nose and offered a hand to Owen. "Come on, get up here and we'll get him out." Shooting Anakin a look that clearly said he believed his friend to be mad, Owen nevertheless took his hand and climbed up.

"He's in rough shape," Owen observed as the two young men looked down at the wounded Jedi. "Is he even alive?"

"Yes, he's breathing." Anakin bent down, placing his hand on the Jedi's chest just to be sure. His eyes had not deceived him, he could feel the shallow movement of breath beneath his fingers. "We have to get him out of here or he's going to bleed to death. Get on the other side, we'll haul him out." Owen obeyed this time, but was clearly very nervous. They each grabbed an arm and lifted the Jedi up and out of the ship. As they did so, the man let out a low moan. They both froze.

"Anakin…" Owen whispered, his eyes wide with fright as they both stood stock still, waiting. But the Jedi remained unconscious and they made their way slowly and awkwardly down to the edge of the fighter's nose. Anakin hopped down as Owen slid the unconscious man down to him. Once Owen was down, they carried the Jedi out of the cargo hold and back to one of the lower bunks in the crew quarters.

"There should be a med kit over there somewhere, see if you can find it." Anakin ripped a sheet and used the torn piece to mop up some of the blood from the man's forehead. He examined the metal shard in the Jedi's side. It didn't look too deep but it would have to come out. Owen brought over the med kit and stood back a bit as Anakin prepared to pull the metal piece out.

"Wait!" Owen said suddenly, making Anakin jump.

"What?" Anakin asked, exasperated. Owen pointed at the Jedi's utility belt, to a shining metal tube hanging there. Anakin unclipped the lightsaber, taking just a moment to feel the weight of it in his hand before attaching it to his own belt. "There, now he's completely harmless."

"Right," Owen muttered under his breath. Anakin ignored him. Taking the metal shard in his hands again, he pulled it out with one swift motion. The Jedi groaned again, but remained asleep.

"He was lucky, it didn't hit anything vital," Anakin said as he examined the wound. "He'll certainly be sore for a while though." He opened the med kit and rummaged through the supplies. "It looks like someone forgot to restock the bacta patches." He pulled a rudimentary roll of bandages from the kit. Forcing Owen to help him, they began to bandage the Jedi up with the items from the med kit. Suddenly, the freighter rocked violently.

"What was that?" Owen asked, fear returning to his eyes. Before Anakin could answer, a second blast hit the freighter. "Uh-oh."

"Come on!" Anakin jumped up and rushed back toward the cockpit.

"What about the Jedi?" Owen shouted after him, bewildered.

"Strap him down and get up here!" he yelled back as he leapt into the pilot's seat. A small group of freighters flew overhead, guns blazing. He flipped the switch to bring power to the forward deflector shields. "It's scavengers, from Geonosis by the look of them," he said as Owen ran into the cockpit, strapping into the co-pilot's seat.

"Why are they attacking us?"

"I guess we infringed on their territory." Anakin brought the Outlander's engines roaring to life and zoomed out of the path of a barrage of incoming blaster fire.

"So much for going back for the power cell," Owen said grumpily as he checked the scanners. "Three ships, but the scanners are showing more approaching from the planet."

"Then I think it's time for us to go." Anakin put the freighter into a stomach-churning dive, eluding his pursuers as he whizzed through the debris field. Owen clung to the armrests of the co-pilot's chair.

"You know, if you pulverize us it kind of defeats the point of escape," Owen reminded Anakin through gritted teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as they flew at top speed within inches of the hull of a gutted frigate. Anakin grinned and gunned the engines, pushing them to their maximum capacity. He whipped the ship around the remains of a frigate's bulkhead, and saw the blinding flash as one of his pursuers failed to make the turn and smashed in spectacular fashion into the debris.

"That's one down," Anakin said as he pulled the ship out of a barrel roll and heading toward the edge of the debris field. The two remaining ships followed him, as he knew they would. "Owen, get ready to open the cargo hold." Too convinced he was about to die to argue, Owen put his hand on the cargo release. "Now!" Owen threw the release lever.

The damaged Jedi fighter flew out behind the freighter, sucked into the vacuum of space. Anakin waited just a beat as he aimed his rear guns at the fuselage. Then he fired. The fighter exploded in a fiery ball, taking the two approaching Geonosian ships with it. Anakin whooped with victory as he pulled back on the engines and returned the freighter to cruising speed. He began to set the coordinates into the navicomputer to make the jump to lightspeed. Owen let out a heavy sigh of relief, but worry was still etched on his brow.

"Anakin, what about the Jedi?" he asked.

"What about him?"

"What are we going to do with him when we get back to Mos Espa? The captain will never…"

"She doesn't need to know," Anakin said with a hint of threat in his voice.

"If the Hutts don't kill you, she will when she finds out."

"She won't find out," Anakin said firmly.

"She always finds out," Owen said, sighing and leaning back in this chair.

"Let me worry about that."

"The problem with that is, you don't worry about anything."

"Owen...have a little faith," Anakin replied as the stars elongated and the Outlander leapt into hyperspace, headed for home.